


Pumpkin Pie

by deutschshepard



Category: Smosh
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pumpkin carving, anthony being a mother hen, general cuteness, halloween fic, nothing major really, slight blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deutschshepard/pseuds/deutschshepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony's really sweet, honest, but he's got the mind of a five-year-old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkin Pie

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: There is a little bit of blood, but it's nothing serious. If even a little makes you grossed out, though, I'd probably skip this one.

Ian stared in disbelief at the orange lumps sitting on the table.

“Carving pumpkins?” he said flatly. “What are we, five?”

“It’ll be fun!” Anthony said, sounding genuinely enthused about it. “Where’s your Halloween spirit?”

“Back in middle school, where it belongs.”

“Nonsense.” Anthony kissed him quick on his way to the kitchen. “Halloween is great. And so are carved pumpkins.”

Well. When he put it like that.

“Do you even have a costume?” Ian deadpanned as Anthony returned and handed him a knife.

“No, but I’m too old to trick-or-treat. Trust me—if I could, I would.” Anthony sat across from him, fixing the newspapers coating the table so that every inch was covered.

“No parties to go to?”

“Thought we could stay home and binge-watch classic thrillers.”

Ian wasn’t about to admit how great that sounded. “And binge-eat candy?”

Anthony grinned. “I like the way you think.”

Ian looked at the sad, squashed pumpkin in front of him. He shrugged, took the knife in hand, and began to hack the top off.

It was kind of diabolical, when you thought about it.

They worked quietly for a little while, Anthony making the occasional comment on work or other things. Once Ian had gutted the pumpkin, its innards spewed over the table, he set to work on cutting out the triangle eyes. This was a lot harder than he remembered.

His knife slipped.

“Ow!” he cried out, cradling his hand. Blood spilled out from between his fingers. He grew nauseous at the sight, and then the pain set in.

“Holy crap, are you okay?” Anthony asked, getting up and walking around the table while Ian cursed up a storm. He sucked in a breath. “That looks deep. I’ll go get a Band-Aid.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ian protested weakly, but Anthony was already halfway to the bathroom.

Ian hated Halloween.

Anthony returned after a minute, brandishing a pack of Band-Aids and a towel. He pulled up a chair in front of Ian and took his injured hand. He wiped the blood from Ian’s fingers, carefully avoiding the gash. Unwrapping the bandages, he placed two of them over the cut and secured them in place. Ian was rolling his eyes through the whole thing.

“It’s just a cut, Anthony. I didn’t slice my arm off.” Although it did hurt like hell, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

Anthony kissed the back of his hand like a complete sap, eyes warm like honey. “Better?”

“…Better,” he said grudgingly.

Anthony leaned up for a real kiss. Ian returned it whole-heartedly. When Anthony pulled away, he was grinning.

Okay, Halloween wasn't _that_ bad.

“You wanna skip the pumpkins and go right to the movies?” he offered.

“Sounds good to me.”

When Anthony attempted to feel him up halfway through Nightmare on Elm Street, the pumpkins forlorn and forgotten on the table, Ian didn’t resist one bit.


End file.
